


Castiel and emotions

by Piffnuties



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deans death, Ficlet, Hurt, M/M, My First Destiel Fanfic, Poor Cas, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Very human emotional Cas, comfort sort of, first fic pls bear with me, s10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 22:01:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3994483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piffnuties/pseuds/Piffnuties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Sam didn't find Dean after Metatron killed him?<br/>What if Castiel was the one who found him lying there against the wall?<br/>(basically the title)</p>
<p>Set when Metatron killed Dean (before he turned into a demon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castiel and emotions

Castiel looks everywhere for Sam. Sam told him to meet him before Dean does something stupid, but neither of them is no where to be seen. He's been looking through the dark evening streets, for at least an hour. He hasn't even heard a prayer, from either Sam or Dean. 

Castiel jogs down another ally, this filled with a bunch of homeless youth. Actually homeless of all ages, and they look strangely structured.. They sit on the ground, and they watch him like he's an intruder, and he knows he found the right way.  
"Excuse me," he says gruffly. "I do not mean any danger at all. Is Metatron here?"  
They narrow their eyes at him. "Mike? Some other guy called him Metatron, he's a gunner I tell ya, you with him?"  
Castiel knows they mean Dean. Is he too late?  
"Where," he says firmly, not stated as a question. His fists clenched.  
The surrounding faces seem to sense his devotion and passive aggressiveness, for some of them point to a semi guarded door.  
Castiel pushes past the people guarding it, and opens the door with a heavy click.  
It's light, like an underground train station. His footsteps are echoing back down the metallic stairs, and it seems empty.  
"Dean?" He calls. No answer, not even a cat.  
"Dean?" He tries a bit louder.  
He continues down, guessing Metatron wants to make it as distant as possible if a fight is to occur.

His eyes adjust to the sudden dark of another corridor, before it again gets lighter, and he's in a large room. A garage it seems.  
"Dean?" He tries again, and stops halfway around a corner.  
There, in the further end of the room, is Dean. Castiel feels his heartbeat increase and an emotion more worried than any ever felt pierces through him. Dean is leaning against the wall, blood forming on his chest, a dark patch through his flannel. 

"Dean?!" He calls distressed. Dean is not answering, he isn't even.. He isn't breathing.  
Castiel sprints towards him, and falls on his knees with a loud, echoed thud. He frantically rips open his flannel, the blood attaching itself to his hands. "Dean?!" He tries again. He wants to shake him, shake him awake. It's so ridiculously human of Castiel that he's surprised.  
He looks down at Dean's face, his eyes are closed in a frown. He is entirely numb. 

If someone asked Cas what he was feeling right this instant, he would not be able to explain.  
Sadness, so drowning and heartbreaking he has a difficult time breathing. His breath is ragged, his cheeks are filled with warm tears. He can't control them nor stop them.  
His heartbeat is beating fast and stressed, and he's suddenly holding Dean's face in his hands, desperately wishing this isn't happening. 

"Dean?" He whispers. Castiel raised Dean from Hell, when he looked like a white light covered with coal. Dean had shook the coal off when Castiel held him. Is there any possibility that will happen now?  
Castiel doesn't realise it until another set of footsteps runs down the same path he took to get here, that he's sobbing.  
He is clutching Dean's dead body, holding it close while slowly rocking back and forth. He's breathing and crying into his soft hair. His fingers clutching the blooded flannel, and his jaw tense from emotion. "Please.." He's whimpering, "please don't."  
Sam's gun is viewed in his side vision, but he can't move, can't pull himself together.  
The sound of a gun falling to the hard cement is mixed with Castiel's sobs.  
Sam croaks; "no." 

Castiel should move, he should stop holding on to Dean now. He should let Sam hold him. He should respect their family feelings before his own. But he can't, because his hands are refusing to let go.  
Sam is crying as well, and it's mostly because of his brother, and also because of Cas. He has never seen anyone so heartbroken as this, except perhaps what he himself is feeling this moment.  
Castiel whispers he's sorry. He should let go, but Sam shook his head.  
He sits down, and tries to comfort them both by holding the broken angel, and his brother.


End file.
